


A Whole New World

by Halmaithor



Series: Alexander and the Magic Lamp [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (seriously very minor though), (this is a lighthearted fic), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Fluff and Humor, Genie Magnus Bane, M/M, Mundane Alec Lightwood, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-22 18:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21306617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halmaithor/pseuds/Halmaithor
Summary: 'He leaps to his feet, standing in the kitchen doorway, unable to tear his gaze away as the smoke coalesces into a figure. And when that figure – a tall, lean, incredibly hot man decked out in silver jewellery, and colourful silks, and dramatic eyeliner around his golden eyes – turns to face him, Alec’s pretty sure his heart stops for a few seconds.'When Alec frees a genie trapped in a lamp, he earns three wishes, and a new temporary housemate.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Alexander and the Magic Lamp [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765252
Comments: 73
Kudos: 381





	1. A Diamond in the Rough

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dumb Drabbles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705429) by [ralf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralf/pseuds/ralf). 

> This has... run away from me. I can already tell it's going to be a lot longer than I planned. (NaNoWriMo who? Sorry, original fiction, Genie!Magnus is demanding my attention.)  
It's also going to be the first fic I upload to AO3 chapter by chapter, instead of waiting until it's complete, because I am TOO EXCITED to wait! 
> 
> Many thanks to ralf, whose 'Dumb Drabble' (Chapter 18) inspired me to write Genie!Magnus. It's probably going to have more fluff than mischief, but I hope you enjoy this all the same!
> 
> Credit for titles so far goes to Disney's Aladdin.

_Not a bad find_, Alec thinks, a pleased smile on his face as he lifts the bundle of white crêpe paper from his satchel. He’d only gone to the thrift shop to donate some old clothes, but the display marked _Oddities _had glinted in the late afternoon sunlight, catching his eye – and when he saw the lamp, something about it just spoke to him. He checked the price ticket, and finding that it was less than twenty dollars, he decided it was worth an impulse buy.  
The cashier had smiled politely, and asked, ‘You an _Aladdin _fan_,_ then?’  
‘Of course. It was one of our first VCRs – my brother and I watched it until it practically wore out.’  
‘Well, if you get your three wishes, remember where your good fortune came from, hm?’ They chuckled, and Alec had left in a distracted haze of nostalgia.

Now he’s finally home, he sits down at the kitchen table, and unwraps his treasure. The lamp is small, only about the size of a single-serving teapot, and it’s a little grubby, which is probably the reason it was such a steal. But under the dirt, the design is beautiful – the brass is mostly covered in blue enamel, detailed with an ornate sweep of jasmine vines from handle to spout on both sides. Once it’s cleaned up a bit, it’ll look lovely on the mantlepiece.  
Curious, he tries to rub some of the grime away with his thumb; and then he nearly drops the lamp when the friction unexpectedly reverberates around the base of it. _Some sort of structural damage?_, he wonders, but when he turns it around, there isn’t anything visible from the outside. Perhaps if he lifts the lid – but he abruptly finds he _can’t _lift the lid. Closer inspection reveals the problem; there’s an almost imperceptible layer of white wax, firmly attaching the lid to the main body of the lamp.

He was going to focus on cleaning it up, but if there’s some sort of crack on the inside, he doesn’t want to risk applying pressure in the wrong place and damaging the lamp. Instead, he finds a toothpick, and gets to work scratching away the wax seal.

The last piece breaks away, and Alec lifts the lid.  
His vision is immediately obscured, and he’s choking on a cloud of bright purple smoke – and before he can begin to worry about what sort of toxic shit this thing could have been loaded with, he nearly jumps out of his skin, because an unfamiliar voice says, ‘_Finally_.’

He leaps to his feet, standing in the kitchen doorway, unable to tear his gaze away as the smoke coalesces into a figure. And when that figure – a tall, lean, incredibly _hot _man decked out in silver jewellery, and colourful silks, and dramatic eyeliner around his golden eyes – turns to face him, Alec’s pretty sure his heart stops for a few seconds.  
‘Ah!’ the man says, his eyes _glowing _as he flashes Alec a brilliant smile. ‘I suppose I have you to thank for my freedom?’ Alec can’t reply – he’s not sure he knows what language _is _at this precise moment in time – but the man seems undeterred, extending a hand. ‘I’m Magnus.’

Alec finds his voice then – but rather than anything intelligent, like _Izzy put you up to this, didn’t she?_, or at least semi-intelligent, like _You’re welcome. I’m Alec, _what comes out is a hoarse whisper: ‘What the _fuck_?’

The man – Magnus – frowns, and steps closer, freezing when Alec scrambles backwards with a frantic cry of, ‘No, no no no – just – don’t – Don’t come any closer.’  
Magnus raises his hands in surrender. ‘It’s alright. I’m not gonna hurt you,’ he says, in the same soothing tone Alec once used on that cat he found cowering under a dumpster. ‘I just think you ought to take a seat before you fall over.’

And maybe this man is a stranger, an intruder, but Alec _is _feeling a little woozy right now, and good advice is good advice. ‘Yeah.’ He swallows. ‘Yeah, that’s – that’s probably…’ He stumbles over to the couch, falling onto it more than sitting. His eyes stay fixed on Magnus as he wanders over, keeping his movements slow, taking a seat in the armchair opposite Alec.  
After a few seconds, Magnus tilts his head as if carefully considering the man in front of him, and waves a hand. ‘Here. Drink this, it should steady your nerves.’ A glass of amber liquid appears on the table in front of Alec, and he just stares at it; first in bewilderment, and then suspicion. Magnus seems to understand – though at this point, Alec’s not ruling out genuine psychic abilities – because he rolls his eyes with an exasperated sigh, even as his face twitches in amusement. ‘It’s not poisoned, dear. That would be an awfully inconvenient way to do you harm. Not to mention extremely rude – as I said before, I’m fairly certain I owe you my freedom.’

Alec takes the glass in a slightly trembling hand, and downs it a lot faster than he probably should. He’s not much of a drinker, usually, but these are somewhat exceptional circumstances.  
Magnus gives a satisfied nod, and sits forward a little. ‘Okay, good. Now, here’s the rundown: No, you’re not going crazy. No, you’ve not been dosed with a particularly effective hallucinogen. And no, this is not an elaborate practical joke pulled by your sibling, partner, or best friend.’  
‘Who are you?’ Alec asks, and feels his face flush. At some point, he hopes to start talking in more than just blunt, three- or four-word sentences.  
Magnus laughs. ‘I told you, I’m Magnus. However, what I suspect you’re trying to avoid asking is _what _I am. Very polite of you…’ He raises an eyebrow.  
Alec starts, realising he’s being prompted. ‘Uh – Alec.’  
‘Alec.’ Magnus smiles. ‘And in answer to your question, I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I am, being as everyone and their cat appears to have seen that hack-job of a film Disney put together in the nineties.’ He shudders in exaggerated distaste.  
‘So, you’re… you’re actually…’  
‘A genie,’ Magnus confirms.

Alec digests that for a moment. ‘So, what, someone put that wax seal on to trap you?’ He’s not sure why his brain has leapt to _that _question, exactly – but hey, at least he managed a proper sentence this time.  
Magnus grimaces. ‘No. Unfortunately, that was me.’ He snaps his fingers, and the lamp appears in his hands. ‘It gets awfully inconvenient having a fully detachable lid, and I was tired of misplacing it. Everything was going swimmingly, until I decided to visit the seafront.’ He waves his hand again, and there’s a dull flash of blue light. Alec blinks, and suddenly the lamp is free of all the grime that covered it earlier, and Magnus is holding up a small, round stone. ‘_This _is the culprit. It fell into the spout, effectively sealing me inside. Don’t get me wrong, I like it in there – I’ve had centuries to get it set up perfectly – but it’s nice to get out of the house every once in a while, wouldn’t you agree?’  
Alec watches as Magnus squashes the stone in between his thumb and forefinger, flicking away the resulting dust. ‘How long were you stuck in there?’ he asks.  
‘That depends. What year is it?’  
‘Twenty-nineteen.’  
‘Oh, good!’ Magnus beams. ‘I’ve barely missed a couple of years, then. Excellent news. I knew it didn’t feel like I’d hit the decade mark, but you never can be sure.’ Alec isn’t sure what to say to that, and so he just nods, turning his empty glass in his hands as Magnus levels a curious stare at him. ‘I must say, Alexander, you’re taking this remarkably well.’

Alec laughs, sharp and surprised. ‘Yeah, well, I’m only forty percent convinced that I’m awake right now.’  
‘Good point.’ Magnus sits back in his chair. ‘So, as for that favour I owe you – assuming you’re awake, and this is real, which you are and it is, by the way – will the usual do? Three wishes, excepting any feats of necromancy or wish-inflation?’  
‘I – uh – yeah, I mean, that works for me.’ He frowns, suddenly worried. ‘Do I have to make them all now?’  
‘I mean, you _can_, but you’ve had something of an intense evening already,’ Magnus says, a teasing lilt to his words. ‘I can wait a while.’  
‘I don’t want to hold you up, if you’ve got places to be-‘  
Magnus raises an eyebrow. ‘I’ve lived for nearly eight centuries, Alec. I can afford to stick around for a week or two to return a favour. Of course, that’s providing you don’t mind me staying put for a while.’  
‘I… I don’t mind, but I don’t have a spare room,’ he says.  
Magnus smirks, fixing Alec with a look that makes it hard to breathe again for a moment. ‘We could always share,’ he says suggestively. Alec opens his mouth to protest, or something, but no sound comes out. Magnus laughs, apparently taking pity on him. ‘I’m joking, Alexander. Even I’m not _that _forward. But don’t worry about the room, I’m quite happy in the lamp.’ He looks around the room, assessing, then snaps his fingers in a gesture that declares: _aha!_ ‘This should do nicely,’ he says, placing the lamp in pride of place on the mantelpiece, in between Izzy’s graduation photo and the golden mantel clock left to Alec by his grandmother. He turns back, gesturing to his lamp as if displaying a piece of art. ‘What do you think?’  
Alec smiles. ‘Actually, that’s perfect. Exactly where I planned to put it when I bought it.’  
Magnus claps his hands, looking delighted. ‘Excellent. Well,’ he says, giving a little mock-bow, ‘goodnight, Alexander. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.’  
‘You sure?’ Alec asks, and he feels himself go red yet again at Magnus’ quizzical look. ‘I just mean – you’ve been stuck in there for a while. You sure you’re okay heading back in so soon?’

Magnus looks stunned for a moment, before his expression softens into a smile. It’s warmer, more genuine, than any smile he’s put on so far, and Alec’s heart skips a beat at how beautiful it makes him look. ‘You’re very considerate, Alexander,’ he says softly. ‘But yes, I’m sure. Like I say, I like my lamp – it’s home, after all. It was only the frustration of being _stuck _in there I didn’t like. Now that I’m free to come and go, I’ll be absolutely fine.’ Alec nods, and Magnus waves his hands, conjuring a gentle light as he begins to melt into smoke once more. ‘It’s late – you should get some rest, too,’ he says, and then there’s only that purple smoke, which is rapidly drawn back through the spout into the lamp.

And Alec is alone in his apartment again.

He drags a hand down his face, yawning widely. It seems that Magnus is full of good advice, because sleep sounds like an excellent plan. He wonders if he ought to worry about leaving a stranger unattended in his home; but Magnus is a _genie_, an all-powerful magical entity, and short of sealing the lamp again – an idea that feels simply repugnant to him, given how grateful Magnus was to be free – it’s not like Alec would be able to stop him if he was inclined to create mischief or mayhem.  
Somehow, though, he doubts that Magnus will. It might be stupid to trust a magic man you just met after he appeared out of thin air in your kitchen, but Alec’s not sure he cares. Izzy’s always been the smart one, anyway.

He makes his way to bed, and that night, he dreams of flying over city lights on a magic carpet, next to a figure he can’t quite make out – except for their warm, beautiful smile.


	2. A New (Fantastic) Point of View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Magnus - with the help of Disney's 'Aladdin' - clears up some discrepancies, and Alec most definitely does NOT get flustered. Not even a little. Nuh-uh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Towards the end of this chapter, when they're discussing how the genie in 'Aladdin' is a prisoner, there's some talk of past slavery practices regarding genies. I believe I've handled it sensitively, but please let me know if anything needs adjusting.

When he wakes up, a part of him thinks that he must have dreamed it all. A _genie_? A _magic lamp_? It feels absurd to even consider it. This kind of thing just doesn’t _happen_, and certainly not to people like him.

But as he stretches, blinking the sleep from his heavy eyes and yawning cool awareness into his brain, the memories clarify, and he knows that they feel too real to be anything but.  
Still, after he slides on his slippers and shrugs into a hoodie to stave off the chill, he wanders into the living room, and his stomach flips when he catches sight of the lamp on the mantelpiece.

He turns to the kitchen, and Magnus is there, looking just as decadent in teal as he did in scarlet the day before. He’s leaning back in one chair, his legs propped up on a second, a heavy book in one hand and what appears to be a mimosa in the other.  
When Alec enters the kitchen, his eyes flick over, and a wide smile spreads across his face as he puts the book down. ‘Ah, good morning, Alexander. Hungry?’  
‘Yeah, starving,’ Alec says, feeling the beginnings of an instinctive, wondering smile on his own face.

Magnus swings himself around until he’s sitting up properly in his chair, and waves a hand across the table. Two plates of Belgian waffles, a jug of maple syrup, a bowl of chopped strawberries, and a cup of coffee appear on the table. ‘Your coffee – cream or sugar?’  
Alec manages to collect himself enough to answer, though he can’t quite bring his eyebrows down from his hairline. ‘Uh, no – black’s good.’ He takes a seat opposite Magnus, helping himself to strawberries. ‘Wait, is this one of my wishes?’ he asks, mostly as a joke. He doesn’t _think _it would be, but what does he know about how all this works?  
Magnus snorts. ‘Please. As if I’d let you waste a wish on something so trivial.’ He looks at Alec, tilting his head in that same assessing way he did the night before. ‘So, you’re convinced that all of this is real now, hm?’  
‘I’m… seventy percent convinced,’ Alec allows, drizzling a thin hatching of syrup over his breakfast.  
Magnus beams at him. ‘My, my, a thirty percent jump in a single night? You flatter me, Alexander.’  
He elbows his book gently to one side as he nabs the bowl of strawberries, and Alec glances at the cover. ‘_Les Mis?’ _he says.  
Magnus _hmm_s an affirmative around his first mouthful of waffle. ‘I must admit, I avoided it for a long time – I tend to get a little bored when a story drags on past three volumes. But, you know. When I got stuck, and it became apparent I was in for something of an extended stay, I took the opportunity to catch up on some of the lengthier works I’d yet to read. It’s quite good – though I must say, it’s a lot… _bleaker, _without the rousing musical numbers to liven things up.’

They eat in a strangely comfortable silence for a while, before Alec’s curiosity gets the better of him. ‘So these… wishes,’ he says. ‘I’m a little lost. How does it all work?’  
‘Fairly much as you’d expect,’ Magnus says with a shrug. ‘You ask for something, and if it’s reasonable, I give it to you.’  
‘Reasonable like… _possible? _Or reasonable like ‘a good idea’?’  
‘A combination of the two – I can do many things that you may have previously considered impossible, but I have both my limits and my standards. I rarely deny wishes, but when I do, there’s always good cause for it.’

Alec mulls that over. He didn’t even know that genies _could _refuse wishes. Or travel. Or… well, the point is, every time he thinks he understands the situation here – ridiculous as it is – Magnus reveals something that highlights just how clueless he is.  
An idea forms in his head, and he clears his throat to voice it before he can chicken out. ‘You know,’ he says, ‘I think I’d feel more – _prepared_, for the responsibility of these wishes, if I knew more about… all of this.’ He gestures to the breakfast, to Magnus, behind him towards the lamp, before forging ahead. ‘So. With that in mind, it’s occurred to me that the only point of reference I really have is _Aladdin_.’ Magnus’ nose wrinkles at the mere mention of the film. ‘So I have an idea. It’s my day off, so why don’t we hang out for a while, and you can tell me everything they got wrong? Then I’ll know where I stand.’ He smiles, hoping it doesn’t come across as nervous as he feels.

Magnus frowns a little, humming in consideration as he finishes his drink. The silence stretches long enough that Alec starts to internally berate himself – _you idiot, he’s a powerful magical being, he doesn’t want to ‘hang out’ with you and talk about a movie he hates – _but by the time he puts down his glass, Magnus’ frown has cleared, a small smile in its place. ‘Sounds like fun,’ he says. He waves a hand, instantly clearing the table, and begins moving into the living room, where he snaps his fingers and an instantly recognisable title menu appears on the T.V..  
‘Oh – we don’t have to actually watch it,’ Alec says, back-pedalling.  
‘Nonsense,’ Magnus counters, ‘it’ll be much easier to explain the mistakes as we go along.’ He settles into a corner of the couch which faces the T.V., shifting a couple of pillows behind him to get comfortable. ‘Besides, I may dislike the inaccuracies, but as I mentioned earlier, I do enjoy a rousing musical number.’ His eyes shine, almost hypnotic, as he gestures for Alec to take a seat beside him, and Alec finds himself doing so, finding that he’s suddenly _incredibly_ thoughtful about the exact meaning of the phrase _respectable distance_.

The movie begins to play, and Alec tries to relax into the familiarity of it, but he’s hyper-aware of the sheer _weirdness _of his situation. He’s sitting there, watching _Aladdin_ – a movie he and Jace must have seen hundreds of times as children – as a grown man in his own apartment, sitting next to an actual, dazzling, real-life, eight-hundred-year-old _genie_.

_Jace would never fucking believe this_, he thinks.

***

The first few scenes of the movie pass without much comment – apparently, Magnus’ issues with the movie don’t concern the worldbuilding.  
Alec’s first query comes when Aladdin starts to explore the Cave of Wonders. ‘So, question – magic carpets? Is that a thing?’  
‘They used to be,’ Magnus says. ‘They still exist, but they’re not a popular travel option these days. Too many cameras about. Before, if someone outside of the magical world spotted you, they’d likely be called crazy. Nowadays, a shot of a flying carpet would go viral in seconds, and it’s such a _pain_ trying to keep the whole thing invisible while you’re trying to steer, too. I tried it around a decade ago, and I nearly crashed into the Eiffel Tower.’

The lamp comes into shot, and Magnus snorts. ‘Ugh. As if any self-respecting genie would reside in such a plain lamp. What’s the point of immortality if you don’t live a little?’ He waves towards his own lamp; Alec swears that it glows for a moment, and he grins. _Show-off_. ‘Now that,’ Magnus continues proudly, ‘is a lamp. Tasteful, not gaudy – but still decorative, still interesting to look at.’  
‘Minimalism hasn’t caught on in the magical world, then?’ Alec asks teasingly.  
‘Not among genies, at least. By and large, we have _excellent _taste.’

Aladdin rubs the lamp, and Alec asks, ‘Another mistake?’  
Magnus tilts his hand back and forth, in a gesture that says _eh, sort of_. ‘Technically, that would work. Sort of like how if an earthquake hit, you’d likely jump out of bed. It’s a little annoying for those of us on the other side, though.’ He turns to Alec, raising an eyebrow. ‘As you can probably guess, from how I tried to shake you off last night.’  
It takes Alec a moment to remember what he means. ‘Oh, with the – oh.’ His hand moves unconsciously to the nape of his neck, and he feels sheepish. It seems so obvious now. ‘Of course. That was you. I thought it was just some weird, vibrational echo or something. Actually, I thought it might be some sort of damage to the lamp.’  
Magnus chuckles. ‘Yeah, I can understand how that would make more sense to you. For future reference, though – if I’m in the lamp and you need me, asking politely works just as well as shaking my whole house.’  
‘Noted.’

Onscreen, the genie gives the rules for wish-making. ‘Two of those are accurate,’ Magnus confirms. ‘Necromancy isn’t possible without dark, _dark _magic, far beyond even the most powerful genies. And wishing for more wishes isn’t something any genie will grant – we’re not beholden to some sort of magical contract, wish-wise. We make an offer we think is fair, and we stick to our word.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘Most of us, anyway. There are a few rotten apples in every bushel, right?’  
Alec nods. ‘Makes sense. So wishes are more like… gifts?’  
‘Exactly. It’s just a way we repay favours, or choose to make life more interesting. It’s nice using one’s powers to give someone _else_ what they want for a change. Try it, next time you’re bored.’  
Alec smiles. ‘Huh. Cool idea.’ He pauses, remembering how they got onto this topic. ‘Wait, so you _can _make people fall in love?’  
‘Of course. It’s honestly not that difficult – a bit of brain chemistry here, a dash of soul-shifting there, _et voila_. But personally, I’ve only done it once.’  
‘Why?’  
Magnus shrugs. ‘It doesn’t feel right to me, usually. I wouldn’t want someone to alter my thoughts that way, to mess around with my emotions. It seems a horribly personal invasion. On the odd occasion that I’m asked to do it, I refuse. I tell the wish-maker to pick something else.’  
‘Except for one time?’ Alec prompts gently. Magnus is quiet for a moment. ‘You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not,’ Alec assures him.  
Magnus shakes his head. ‘No, it’s okay, it’s just…’ He sighs. ‘The one time I granted that wish was to a young gay woman a couple of centuries ago. She was due to be wed in an arranged marriage, and she couldn’t bear the thought of spending her life with someone she knew she’d never have feelings for, no matter how kind he was. So she asked me to make her fall in love with him, and I agreed.’ He glances at Alec, briefly flashing a sad smile. ‘She was happy, after that – she went through with the wedding, their families were overjoyed, and she raised three beautiful children with a good man whom she cherished, and who cherished her in return. But I wonder, sometimes, if I made the right choice. If there wasn’t some – some great _wrong_, there, in helping someone to deny something so fundamental about themselves.’ He settles back on the sofa, attention returning to the screen. ‘I think about her a lot, actually. I can only pray she didn’t come to regret it; that I did a good enough job, so that she didn’t feel like something was _off_, or like something was _missing_.’

‘Hey.’ Alec reaches out, places a hand on Magnus’ shoulder. ‘She was hurting, and you did the best you could to help her. You tried to make her happy – and from what you’re saying, it seems to me like you succeeded. I don’t think that’s wrong.’  
Magnus turns back to face him, and under the weight of those golden eyes, Alec suddenly becomes self-conscious, quickly removing his hand. ‘Thank you, Alexander,’ Magnus says softly. Alec nods awkwardly, and turns back to the movie, feeling Magnus’ gaze linger for a few seconds before he does the same.

By this point, Aladdin’s genie is confessing that he’s a prisoner. ‘Poor guy. No seafront visits for him, huh?’ Alec asks, trying to lighten the mood.  
Magnus laughs gently, and something eases in Alec’s chest. ‘No, apparently not,’ he agrees. ‘There are ways to bind a genie to their lamp, so they can only wander a little while summoned, but they went out of fashion centuries ago. Actually, that’s where our _be careful what you wish for_ reputation started,’ he says. ‘Trapped genies couldn’t refuse requests, the same way free genies could. So instead, they started to twist their masters’ words, giving them dark shadows of what they truly wanted. As a protest, it worked wonderfully – once people realised that owning a trapped genie wouldn’t guarantee that they’d get what they wanted, demand for them fell, and the unscrupulous lot who’d been taking part in the practice realised that it wasn’t worth all the danger and effort of the binding ritual anymore.’  
‘Well, that’s good.’ He feels a little bad for making a joke of it, now, even though he hadn’t known. No-one deserved that kind of trapped half-life.  
‘Yeah. It’s a lot nicer walking the earth without worrying about slavers lurking around every corner. And without any of that interference, we can go where we like. We just have to take our lamp with us.’  
Alec smiles, still feeling a little somber from the heavy topic, but tickled by the thought he’s just had. ‘You’re like a really cool tortoise, then.’

Magnus turns to face him, and Alec feels himself turn red as that beautiful, genuine smile re-emerges, quickly dissolving into a hearty, raucous laugh. ‘I don’t know whether to be pleased or insulted by that, Alexander.’  
‘Hey,’ Alec says, feigning indignation even as he laughs, too. ‘I love tortoises. And I called you _really cool_.’  
‘You did, you did,’ Magnus acknowledges, sighing deeply as the laughter comes to an end. ‘Anyway – yes, that’s the gist of it. We’re free to wander, but we take our home with us wherever we go.’  
Alec turns back to the movie, settling a little deeper into the couch cushions and tucking his legs up beside him. ‘Sounds pretty good to me.’  
‘Yeah,’ Magnus says quietly. ‘It is.’

The rest of the movie passes too quickly, the familiar story interspersed with occasional bouts of warm, comfortable conversation.  
‘By the way,’ Magnus says, shortly after Aladdin is thrown into the sea. ‘If at any point during our little agreement, I find myself in a position to save your life, I won’t make you use one of your wishes for it.’ He winks.  
Alec chuckles, and hopes it isn’t obvious that his heart rate has just doubled. ‘Very kind of you.’


	3. Power in your Corner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Halmaithor stays up stupidly late, chapter titles continue to be 'Aladdin' lyrics, and Alec makes his first wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay LISTEN. I thought, 'I'll write more of this /tomorrow/. Right now, I should go to bed.' *John Mulaney voice* And then I /didn't/.  
I make terrible decisions, but hopefully they result in enjoyable fic. ;)  
Also, who's ready for some Magnus!POV? Well, I know I was, so that's what we have. Please enjoy. ^^

He hears the door click open, and Alexander’s voice comes echoing from the tiny entrance hallway. ‘Magnus?’  
Magnus looks up from the last third of _Les Mis _– which he’s enjoying, still, but by the gods, how could there be so _much_ of it left? – and feels himself smile as the man himself appears, unwinding his scarf and managing to further muss his already-windswept mop of hair in the process. ‘Alexander,’ he says in greeting. ‘Pleasant day, I hope?’  
‘Huh? Oh – yeah, it was okay,’ he says, excitement dancing bright and lovely in his eyes. Before Magnus can query it, Alexander quickly drops into the seat next to him, leaning forward as he tells Magnus, ‘Listen – I was thinking it over on my lunch break, and I think I’ve decided on a wish.’

Magnus sits up from his stretched-out position, swinging his legs off of the couch and banishing the book back to his lamp’s library with a flick of his wrist. ‘That’s wonderful news,’ he says, gesturing upwards with both hands, allowing his fingertips to spark in lilac and mauve, inordinately pleased when Alexander’s eyes widen. Magic, he had decided centuries ago, was as much showmanship as science. ‘So tell me, Alexander – what does your heart desire?’

Alexander takes a deep breath, and speaks as though he’s consciously slowing his pace down – though, notably, not enough to return to his normal speed. ‘Okay. So. My sister, Izzy, and her husband Simon – they’ve been trying to have a baby, and I was wondering if you could, you know, help with that?’  
It takes all of Magnus’ considerable self-control not to raise an eyebrow at his phrasing. Unfortunately, it’s a wasted effort, as Alexander seems to realise the next moment what that sounded like, and turns a delectable shade of cherry red regardless. ‘I mean,’ he says, his voice a little stilted with embarrassment, ‘they’ve been having IVF treatment, and the last two attempts have failed, and they have their last chance tomorrow, and – I don’t know, if it’s possible, or-‘  
Magnus holds up a hand, halting the ramble. ‘Alexander.’ He smiles gently. ‘Of course it is possible. You are not the first wish-maker to ask for something like this, not by a long shot. I’d be happy to help.’ He lets his smile widen into a teasing grin. ‘Final answer?’  
Alexander nods, looking relieved and happy, the tension draining from his posture. ‘Yeah. My first wish is for Izzy’s IVF tomorrow to succeed.’

***

The next day, Magnus arrives at the clinic fifteen minutes before Izzy’s appointment. Five minutes later, a familiar couple arrives, and the woman says, ‘Hi - Isabelle Lightwood, I have a 3:15 appointment with Dr Anderson?’  
They take a seat not far from him, and Magnus peers at them discreetly over his magazine. Alexander showed him a photograph of the two of them together, but even without that, he thinks he could have recognised them. Isabelle looks very like her brother – the same dark, shiny hair, earnest hazel eyes, and strong, serious brows. She’s holding onto her husband’s hand, a slightly shaky smile on her face as he rambles on softly, encouragingly, and she looks lost somewhere between excited and afraid.

They’re called through, still holding hands. Magnus ducks into the restroom, checking that it’s empty, and snaps his fingers, changing his appearance with a glamour. He heads back into the waiting room, picks up a different magazine, and takes a seat in a chair closer to the corridor they left through.

Some time later, they reappear, a slight shuffle to Isabelle’s gait and Simon’s arm curled loosely around her waist.  
Magnus puts down the magazine, and pulls a cell phone out of his pocket, frowning down at it as he strides towards them. He gives a soft grunt of apparent surprise as he bumps into Isabelle, his palm briefly resting over her navel and sending a spark of magic into her system. ‘Oh – so sorry,’ he says, flashing each of them an apologetic smile before he continues on his way.

He resists the temptation to look back, and leaves the clinic out of the side entrance.

***

When he arrives back at Alexander’s apartment that evening, Magnus immediately spots him stretched out on the sofa, in much the same way he himself was earlier. ‘Hey!’ Alexander leaps to his feet, switching off the television and putting his half-empty bowl down on the coffee table, before rushing over until he’s stood right in front of Magnus. Excitement and fear are warring on his face, a sight breathtakingly similar to what Magnus saw in Isabelle’s expression earlier. ‘How’d it – well – Did it work?’  
At this point in the proceedings, Magnus isn’t even surprised to find himself smiling anymore. Alexander just seems to have that effect on him. He reaches out, stilling the excitement somewhat with a hand at his elbow. ‘It went perfectly,’ he said. ‘A small nudge, a hint of magic, and _voila _– wish granted. I expect that in a few weeks, Isabelle will be calling you with some _very _good news.’

Alexander beams at him, and maybe he’s been stuck in the lamp for too long, because until just now Magnus had forgotten why smiles like that were likened to sunlight. ‘_Thank you. _That’s just – God, I’m so happy for them. Thank you for that.’  
‘You’re most welcome, Alexander.’ He drops his hand, making a small _shoo_ing motion. ‘Go finish your dinner, you’ll get indigestion leaping up in the middle of a meal like that.’  
Alexander does as he’s told, but calls back over his shoulder, ‘Yours is on the table, if you’re hungry.’  
Magnus blinks, trying to school his face back into something casual. ‘Thank you,’ he says. He’s been saying that a lot, since he got here. He wanders over to the table, humming appreciatively at the sight and smell of a generous bowl of tagliatelle, with just the right amount of Bolognese sauce stirred through it. He snaps his fingers, simultaneously reheating the food and conjuring a light dusting of _parmigiano-reggiano_.

He walks back out to the living room, a little surprised to see that Alexander hasn’t resumed the show he was watching, and is instead turning to face Magnus as he takes a seat. ‘I hope it’s okay,’ he says. ‘It’s from an Italian recipe book my parents bought me for Christmas.’ He chuckles. ‘I’m not what you’d call a natural chef, but give me a list of instructions, and I’ll get there.’   
Magnus samples a forkful of pasta. It’s a _little_ light on the garlic for his taste, but it’s delicious, and he digs in eagerly. He was hungrier than he thought, and he can sense Alexander’s satisfaction at providing adequate sustenance for his houseguest.

Alexander turns back to his own meal, and Magnus takes the opportunity to look at him surreptitiously, curiosity once more curling around his thoughts.   
When Alexander’s gaze flicks back towards him suspiciously, he realises that he wasn’t being as surreptitious as he thought. ‘What?’ Alexander asks. ‘Do I have Bolognese on my face?’  
Magnus chuckles, shaking his head. ‘No, no such thing. It’s just…’ He trails off with a shrug, but Alexander stays focused on him as they finish the last mouthfuls of their meals. Magnus banishes the dishes with a lazy wave of his hand, and Alexander smiles in appreciation, but doesn’t say anything, clearly giving Magnus the opportunity to continue speaking.

Which, eventually, he does. ‘I meant it, before,’ he says, ‘about people wishing for children, for successful pregnancies. It’s very common. But this is the first time I can remember someone making that wish for a loved one’s sake, rather than their own.’  
Alexander looks down, and Magnus wants to tell him that it’s _certainly_ nothing to be embarrassed about, but he doesn’t want to interrupt when Alexander starts to speak. ‘I don’t know, it’s just… She’s wanted this for such a long time. And after they kept trying, and getting nowhere, and decided to start having the treatment – she was just so _upset. _She came over, and she was crying, and I knew I couldn’t do anything to make it better for her.’ He swallows hard, and Magnus almost winces in sympathy. ‘Then, after the two failed IVF attempts… She was putting a brave face on it, talking about the possibility of adoption – which obviously, is a great option, I mean, Jace was adopted and we wouldn’t be without him – but I could just _tell_, that even if she wasn’t out of options, another setback was just… I wasn’t sure she could handle it.’ He looks up at Magnus, and his eyes are shiny, and Magnus is pretty sure his own are too. Alexander shrugs. ‘I don’t know, it just seemed like the right thing to do. If I’ve got a way to help her, I want to, you know?’

Alexander’s looking at him like he’s expecting derision, criticism for some naïveté on his part. Magnus smiles at him, and sighs. ‘You continue to surprise me, Alexander. I’ve granted a lot of wishes, but rarely one so selfless.’  
Alexander looks down at his feet again, mumbling something that might have been a _thanks,_ or possibly another _I don’t know,_ and Magnus makes a mental note that while he’s here, he should make a habit of giving compliments. Alexander could _really _use some practice receiving them.

But for now, he changes the topic, lightening the mood once more. ‘By the way, I couldn’t help but notice your bow,’ he says, gesturing to the wall behind them, where a navy and silver bow is proudly mounted on the wall. ‘It’s in beautiful condition, so either you dust your décor more than anyone I’ve ever met, or you actually use it.’  
Alexander smiles. ‘Yeah, I’ve been into archery for a while now. Probably since I was… fourteen? Maybe? I’m not great, but I enjoy it. It’s good for some downtime – helps me switch off my brain.’   
Magnus snorted lightly. ‘I’m sure you’re being modest.’ Novices had simple recurve bows, not nearly as difficult to wield as the compound contraption behind them. ‘You’ll have to dazzle me with your skills sometime.’   
He winked, fully expecting Alexander’s blush, but fully delighted by it all the same. He might not be here for long, but there was no harm in flirting a little while he was, he reasoned. After all, Alexander was sweet, and handsome, and possibly one of the most _thoughtful _men Magnus had ever met.

Plus, he had always found people who could handle their weaponry very, very attractive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The in-universe archery is in honour of ralf, and in case you were wondering, yes, Magnus' attraction to that skill is in honour of TRSOM. ^^  
Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Flirting, making wishes - we're getting somewhere now, friends!


	4. Fools Off Their Guards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'A fool off his guard could fall, and fall hard' - Arabian Nights, Aladdin  
In which Alec makes his second wish, and Magnus makes good on a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably a good time to mention that in this AU, Maryse is Season-3B-lovely, and Robert is Season-2B-not-so-lovely.  
Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Magnus rematerializes in the living room, a little surprised to hear Alexander’s voice still coming from his bedroom. He’s been on the phone with his mother for at least an hour, since before Magnus briefly returned to the lamp to tend his garden. He frowns as he realises that Alexander isn’t speaking with his usual, easy cadence – his voice is animated, spiking in volume and pitch. Magnus finds himself wanting to go check on him; but he reminds himself that it isn’t his place, and he should give Alexander his privacy.

But when he hears a crash, all of that goes out the window, and he sprints to the open bedroom doorway. ‘Alexander, are you all right?’

A quick glance around the room reveals the source of the crash – everything on Alexander’s desk, including the potted plant and the desk lamp, has been strewn across the floor. Alexander turns to face Magnus, and Magnus’ breath catches at the blaze of righteous fury in his expression. He looks powerful and deadly, like an avenging angel, a world away from the kind, reserved man Magnus has been getting to know for the past ten days.  
When their eyes meet, Alexander visibly tries to calm himself, taking a deep, shuddering breath and running his hands through his hair. ‘Yeah,’ he says quietly. ‘Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry about that.’  
‘No need to be sorry,’ Magnus says, taking a step into the room. ‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’  
Alexander tosses his phone – still clenched tightly in his hand until now – onto the bed with a little more force than necessary. ‘My mom,’ he says. ‘She… she found some letters. Between my dad and another woman.’ He laughs bitterly. ‘Actual, honest-to-God letters, can you believe that? Like he’s some sort of Victorian suitor. She confronted him, and apparently, the bastard didn’t even deny it. So she walked out. They’re done.’

His voice breaks right at the end of that sentence, and Magnus’ heart twists painfully as Alexander’s eyes fill with tears. He steps forward, closing the distance between them, and gently pulls his friend close, one arm around his waist, the other hand guiding Alexander’s head down to Magnus’ shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he murmurs.  
Alexander returns the embrace, then laughs again, his voice thick with tears. ‘It’s stupid, you know? I mean, obviously I’m pissed on her behalf, but it’s not… I’m not some middle-schooler whose parents are fighting downstairs, you know? I’m an adult, and I live all the way across the country. There’s no need for all of _this.’ _Alexander’s hand lifts briefly from Magnus’ back, as if he’s gesturing – at himself, or the room, or the general situation, Magnus doesn’t know.  
But he doesn’t have to, because his answer would be the same anyway. ‘It’s not stupid,’ he says gently, but firmly. He waves a hand as he talks, reassembling the plant pot and the lightbulb, moving the mess on the floor back into a neat arrangement on the desk. ‘He betrayed your trust and hurt someone you care about. You’re allowed to be upset about that, Alexander.’ A few moments pass in still quiet, before he says, ‘You know, you still have two wishes. Want me to turn him into a frog?’

He’s expecting a chuckle, and when he doesn’t get one, he pulls back, frowning a little. ‘Ah – Alexander, not that it’s not possible, but I don’t actually think it’s a good idea to-‘  
Alexander shakes his head, lips twitching into a quick half-smile as he wipes his tears away. ‘No, it’s not that. I knew you were kidding, I just…’ He sits down on the bed, and Magnus sits beside him, waiting for him to collect his thoughts enough to speak again. ‘It made me think of something. Something that Mom said. She’s in a motel at the moment, and I said she could come stay here for a while instead. She told me that she wants some distance from Dad, but she can’t leave L.A. – her job’s there, and apparently no-one’s hiring through regular applications at the moment. The only chance she has to find something else is being head-hunted.’

Magnus smiles. ‘Okay. So, you’re thinking that perhaps we can arrange for her to find a job opportunity in New York?’  
‘Actually, I was thinking Colorado.’ At Magnus’ confused look, Alexander explains, ‘Mom lived out there when she was younger, and she always talks about going back some day. Plus, Max just started college in Wyoming, and after… all this, Mom’ll probably want him to have someone else close by.’

_Someone besides Dad_, Magnus hears. ‘Ah, I see. In that case, just to be sure I have everything clear – your second wish is for your mother to find a fresh start, an opportunity, in Colorado?’ Alexander nods, and the wheels start turning in Magnus’ head. ‘All right. Consider it done.’

***

Magnus strolls through the corridors of Yelloway & Stein, catching the odd glimpse of himself in an internal window. Suit-and-tie isn’t usually his thing, but maybe he should make an exception to that rule more often. He feels _very _professional.

He knocks on the door to Human Resources and opens it, giving the clerk a smile – though he dials down from his usual radiance, keeping things casual, unsuspicious. ‘Hi. Recruitment want the resumes we have on file for new talent. Where can I find ‘em?’  
The clerk gestures over to a green out-tray on top of a filing cabinet, returning to their computer screen. To Magnus’ eyes, the mouse movements look a _little _more suited to playing solitaire than administrative work – but he’s hardly one to judge secretive practices in this particular office, and on this particular day, is he?  
He brushes that thought aside, gathering the resumes. ‘Thanks,’ he says, unsurprised when he receives no acknowledgement from the clerk. Ordinarily, he’d be annoyed at the utter lack of good manners, but today, any decrease in attention is a boon.

Alone in the elevator, he produces one more resume to add to the pile – the one Maryse Lightwood keeps hosted on an online recruitment site. He waves his fingers over it lightly, infusing it with a subtle magic; it won’t change what they think of her qualifications, but it’ll compel them to at least read the resume before throwing it out.

No one bats an eye as he strides into the Recruitment office, dumping the pile of papers on an in-tray marked _SCOUTED_. He turns on his heel and leaves, putting on the air of someone far too busy to stop for chit-chat.  
In a way, that part’s not even a deception. Yelloway & Stein is the fourth most prestigious law firm in the state, meaning that he still has numbers five through twelve to go.

***

Six days after Magnus’ excursion to Colorado, Alec is starting to get nervous. Magnus can go anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye – yet here he is, hanging around in a tiny New York apartment, with probably one of the top twenty most boring men on the planet. ‘You know,’ he says hesitantly, as they tuck into the leftover Chinese food they saved for lunch, ‘you don’t have to stick around. I’m sure what you did in Colorado worked – I can move on to my third wish, if you need to get going.’  
Magnus shakes his head, gesturing with his chopsticks as he finishes his mouthful before speaking. He handles them more elegantly than Alec could ever hope to – centuries of experience combined with some sort of natural grace, Alec supposes. ‘Like I said, I can stick around a while. After all, I want to make sure all three of your wishes are properly granted.’ He pauses, meeting Alec’s gaze more directly. ‘Of course, if you… if I’m interrupting your routine too much, I can always find another place to keep my lamp.’  
‘No,’ Alec says, knowing his answer was too quick but hoping Magnus hasn’t noticed. ‘No, not at all.’ Truth be told, much as he likes the independence of living alone, he forgot how nice it is to have another presence in the home – a friend, a roommate, someone to talk to and laugh with and sit next to on the couch.

Magnus’ serious expression lightens a little. ‘Okay. But please, do let me know if I’m outstaying my welcome. I’m eight hundred years old, time passes a little differently for me,’ he jokes.  
Alec rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, sure, because I’m gonna complain about a magic houseguest who’s literally only sticking around to make my dreams come true.’ He looks back down at his food, not quite meeting Magnus’ eyes as he says, ‘No, don’t worry about any of that. I like having you here.’ It’s too earnest, too honest to be said with eye contact. But it doesn’t matter, because he feels his stomach swoop anyway just _remembering _that beautiful, warm smile; the one that Magnus wears whenever Alec shares something from even remotely near his heart.

***

Three days later, Alec comes home with a small parcel, hastily wrapped in a suitably tiny gift bag. ‘Magnus?’ he calls.  
‘In here,’ comes the reply from the living room, and Alec walks in to see Magnus banish a plush-looking yoga mat, snapping his fingers to change from his black tank top and sweatpants back into a regular outfit as he smiles at him. ‘Good day?’  
‘Yeah, it was okay,’ Alec says. He manages to stop thinking about what it would have been like to come home ten minutes earlier, but only because he’s struck by a sudden wave of fondness at how quickly they’ve settled into this routine of theirs. He shakes himself, producing the gift bag from his pocket. ‘Here, I got you something.’  
Up until now, Alec didn’t think Magnus could look this taken aback. ‘Me?’  
‘Yes, you,’ he says – but as he hands it over, his phone buzzes in his pocket. ‘Ah – one moment.’ He pulls his phone out, a thrill of excitement and nervousness thrumming through him as he sees who it is. ‘Hi, Mom.’  
‘Hi, sweetheart, you’ll never guess what happened – I got a call from a big legal firm in Colorado. They want me to join the senior team in their family law department!’  
‘What? Wow, Mom, that’s amazing!’ Alec easily translates the happiness he’s feeling into false surprise, even as he looks up at Magnus and gives a thumbs-up. Magnus responds with a dazzling grin that sparks something even brighter in his golden eyes, silently clapping his hands in a gesture of triumph and joy.

Alec talks with his mom for a few more minutes, listening to the details of her new job, how they _just called out of the blue_, how she’d _almost forgotten_ about putting her resume out there on _that old recruitment site_. ‘I’m really happy for you, Mom,’ he says softly.  
‘Thank you, sweetheart. Listen, I’ve got to go – there’s a lot to sort out here, they want me to start as soon as possible – but I just wanted to let you know, I know how you worry. Talk soon, okay? I love you.’  
‘Yeah, I love you too, Mom. Bye.’ He hangs up, sinking into an armchair and basking in the happiness for a moment.  
‘Well,’ Magnus says, taking the seat next to him. ‘Two wishes granted, and _both _for someone else’s sake. Honestly, Alexander, I’m half-expecting you to ask me to cure world hunger next.’

That startles Alec out of his reverie, and he looks sharply at Magnus. He’s been so preoccupied with the issues close to home, he never thought -  
Magnus seems to understand his alarm, reaching out a hand to rest it reassuringly on Alec’s arm. ‘You’re a kind man, Alexander, and no, you haven’t missed a huge, altruistic opportunity,’ he says, his tone teasing but his expression gentle. ‘If you’d asked me for something like that, I would have said no. Believe me, I understand the temptation to use magic to solve the world’s biggest problems, but wish-granting is… subtle, by nature. If you go too big with it, you wind up causing more problems than you solved. People get suspicious of large, anonymous donations, and the finances of a charity are shut down for six months while it’s investigated. An island hit by a hurricane is fixed overnight, and the next time one strikes – when there’s no genie around – humanitarian aid isn’t considered a priority anymore, because _it was okay last time, wasn’t it?’_

Alec gives a _hmm_ of understanding. ‘I see your point. It must be frustrating – knowing you have all this power, but that snapping your fingers can’t just…’  
‘…Fix everything?’ Magnus supplied. ‘You’re right, it is frustrating – especially during the first hundred years, when every experience is so new and exciting, and every time you help someone it feels like an adventure.’ He smiles. ‘But most of us do what we can, behind the scenes. We can make a sizeable difference, even if we can’t eradicate the biggest problems. For example, my dear friend Catarina spends half her time as a medic with the Red Cross, guiding people to ‘miraculous’ recoveries.’ His eyes soften as he looks into the middle distance for a moment, before his focus comes back to Alec. ‘My advice?’ he says, softly, waiting for Alec to nod before he continues. ‘Use your last wish for yourself, Alexander. Do what I’m sure you’ve only done a handful of times before, and be as selfish as you like. I assure you, you’re more capable of good deeds by paying your luck forwards later, rather than trying to fix something big with unruly magic and a half-baked plan. There’s no shame in taking this opportunity just for you – in fact, in terms of making a positive impact, it’s probably the best option.’  


Alec smiles. ‘Okay. I get it.’  
His eyes alight on the tiny gift bag, forgotten on the coffee table. ‘Speaking of things that are _just for you, _open your gift! I need to know if I got the right one.’

Magnus takes the bag and gently lifts out the present, the wrappings disappearing mid-air as he throws them haphazardly over his shoulder. He blinks at the small piece of metal in its inordinately large plastic envelope, a small furrow of confusion gathering on his brow. ‘What’s this?’  
‘It’s a hinge,’ Alec says, rather obviously. _He knows it’s a hinge, you idiot. _‘It’s for your lamp,’ he continues hurriedly. ‘The lid. So you don’t have to seal it up with wax again, and you won’t get stuck, but it’ll still be attached.’

And… okay, wow. If Alec thought that that smile had set his heart racing, it was surely nothing compared to the expression on Magnus’ face now. His mouth is slightly open, lax, as if in shock, his eyes are slightly wide and sparkling as he blinks, and his brows are still pulled together almost imperceptibly. Abruptly, he gets up, striding over to the lamp. He removes the hinge from packaging which once again blinks out of existence before it hits the ground, and there’s a flash of green light. He turns around with the lamp in his hands, and Alec sees that the hinge is now fused to the lamp, allowing the lid to tilt smoothly away from the main opening and then settle back into it snugly.  
Alec quickly discovers that he was wrong before. _Nothing_ compares to that smile, and he knows that for certain because Magnus is looking at him with it right now, and Alec doesn’t want to ever look away even though a whole colony of butterflies has apparently just moved into his stomach.  
‘It’s perfect, Alexander,’ Magnus says. ‘Thank you so much.’  
Alec shrugs, trying to control his own pleased grin. ‘It’s nothing, really.’  
‘No,’ Magnus says vehemently. ‘It is certainly _not_.’ He looks down at the lamp. ‘I don’t remember the last time someone got me a gift,’ he murmurs. ‘Let alone such a thoughtful one.’

A part of Alec wants to ask Magnus how that can be true, when he spends so much of his time making others happy. Who wouldn’t want to thank him for that?  
But he’s not entirely sure that those last few words were meant to be spoken aloud. And he’s not entirely sure that if he starts talking about how grateful he is for Magnus – for all his help – he’ll be able to stop.

So instead, he changes the topic. ‘So, tell me – what’s the plan, after I make my third wish? What’s next for you? You planning on staying in New York a while, seeing the sights?’

Magnus’ attention seems to return to the here and now, and he places the lamp back on the mantelpiece with reverent care. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ he says. ‘After all, with such an innovative solution to my lid problems, the world is once again my oyster, hm?’  
He winks, and Alec smiles, trying to return the playful tone and mask his foolish disappointment. _Of course he isn’t sticking around. He’s been waiting on you long enough already. _

But in that case, Alec’s going to take his advice, and he’s going to be selfish for once – he’s going to spend tonight in Magnus’ bright, reassuring company, and he’s not even going to _think_ about his third wish until tomorrow. _Just tonight, _he tells himself. _I’ll just ask him for tonight – no more, no less. He can always say no. _  
Although of course, Alec’s fervently hoping that he doesn’t.

He turns and grabs his coat, winding his scarf around his neck. ‘Well, in that case,’ he says, ‘there’s something you really ought to see before you go.’  
‘Oh?’ Magnus asks. ‘And what might that be?’ He snaps his fingers, and a long, dapper coat appears over his own shoulders, a vibrant blue neckerchief peeping out from where it’s tucked warmly around his throat. His eyes darken to a rich brown, disguising their golden magic.  
They leave, and as Alec’s locking the door behind them, he says, ‘It’s this one path in Central Park. It’s fairly out of the way, pretty quiet – but it’s beautiful this time of year, because all the leaves have turned. It’s like something out of a fairytale.’  
‘Well,’ Magnus says with a smile, gesturing for Alec to go first, ‘I do like a fairytale. Lead on, Alexander.’

***

Magnus loses himself in easy conversation with Alexander on their way back from the park, and tries not to think of the third and final wish looming on the horizon.

He’s surprised himself, these last few weeks. He’s spent more one-on-one time with Alexander than he has with anyone else in the last hundred years, bar Catarina and a handful of lovers, and he’s found himself surprisingly… _attached._ He put it down to loneliness, at first – two years of house arrest would do that to anyone – and _then_ he tried to pass it off as just flirting with a handsome guy, a way to pass the time while he waited to repay a favour.  
But somehow, without him noticing, _he seems nice _had turned into _he’s my friend_. _He’s fun to flirt with _had turned into _I adore his company._  
_I can afford to stick around for a while _had turned into _gods, I’m really going to miss him.  
_Magnus hasn’t missed anyone in a long, long time, and he’s dreading it.

But it’s for the best, he reminds himself. Alexander’s a nice, regular mortal, who doesn’t need his life turned upside down by a sentimental old genie who doesn’t know when it’s time to move along. He’s polite, and thoughtful, and kind – far, _far_ too kind to ever tell Magnus that it’s time for him to get back to his real life, to come down from the clouds bearing a fleeting whimsy of magic wishes and touch down in steady reality again.  
Magnus knows all of this. But knowing something and being happy about it are worlds apart, sometimes. Just like him and Alexander.

He tunes back in as his companion starts telling an anecdote of the time Jace convinced Max to climb to the very top of a tree, to throw down a frisbee that was stuck up there. Unfortunately, the seven-year-old had gotten stuck right alongside the frisbee, and had started sobbing – which had meant that Alexander (as the oldest, and tallest, and the one with the longest arms) was drafted into a perilous rescue mission, whilst Jace and Isabelle crowded the base of the tree, hoping to break any falls.  
There’s a fierce, fond love in Alexander’s eyes as he laughs at the memory, and he’s waving his hands in an impression of Isabelle as he recounts how she was yelling at Jace, calling him a _reckless, irresponsible disaster of a human being – _

Alexander suddenly starts toppling, his foot sliding out of control on a thin layer of evening frost, a gasp of faint surprise on his lips as he falls away from the sidewalk and towards the road.  
Magnus moves before he can consciously register it. His magic sticks his own feet to the floor as he reaches out with both hands, grabbing ahold of Alexander’s coat and pulling with all his might.

Alexander lurches forward, coming to rest with his torso pressed against Magnus’, his weight supported by the arm Magnus has thrown around his waist as well as the hand that’s still fisted in the front of his coat. A car zooms past them, right where Alexander’s head was a moment ago.  
They stand there for a few seconds, their stunned silence broken only by the noise of the traffic and their heavy breathing.  
‘Are you all right?’ Magnus murmurs, his heart still pounding.  
Alexander blinks a few times, his tongue darting over his lips briefly before he can form the words. ‘Y-yeah. Thanks,’ he breathes.

A faint pink appears in his cheeks, growing beyond the already-present glow of the cold air, and it snaps Magnus out his trance as he realises the kind of tableau they must be making right now. He lets out a slightly breathless laugh, hearing how it comes out half-nervous, half-relieved, and absolutely zero percent casual. ‘Think nothing of it,’ he says, stepping back, steadying Alexander before removing his hands. He takes a deep breath, just managing to find a veneer of confident charm and an easy smile. ‘See, I told you,’ he says. ‘Didn’t I say that if I had a chance to save your life, I wouldn’t make you waste a wish on it?’  
Alexander laughs, and the tension between them breaks. They walk home, comfortable in each other’s company – albeit a few inches further apart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter to go! Hope to have it done soon, stay tuned ^^  
ralf continues to be awesome, and is the reason the life-saving joke from Chapter 2 turned out to be more than just a throwaway line, so thanks bud! <3


	5. Let Your Heart Decide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec makes his final wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This took a little while longer than the previous chapters, because I wanted things to wrap up satisfactorily. As usual, the chapter title is from 'Aladdin'.  
Please enjoy!

Alec folds his arms over his chest, holding still; tossing and turning wasn’t helping him drift off any faster, so maybe this will work instead. But the gentle pressure just reminds him of earlier – of Magnus’ hands, arms, chest holding him upright but by no means steady. Of being so close, and wanting nothing more than to close the rest of the distance and kiss him.   
He shuts his eyes, but there’s barely any difference. There’s no pesky ray of moonlight peeping in, no noise besides the familiar hum of the city he can no longer sleep without. It’s his own thoughts, his own foolish _wants, _keeping him awake.

Tomorrow, he’s going to make his final wish. He’s going to let Magnus move on, and try to return to his own normal life. And hey, he’s got his work, he’s got his family nearby – there are plenty of things to distract and ground him, to help him pretend that these last few weeks have just been a strange dream; exhilarating, but fleeting, and not to be mourned for that.

He groans, giving up and turning onto his side again, feeling his face smoosh up against the thin pillow. The problem is, this time with Magnus hasn’t_ felt_ like a dream. It’s felt more real than anything Alec’s ever known. It’s never been perilous enough to be exhilarating, and he doesn’t want it to be fleeting – instead, it’s been comfortable, quietly and steadily joyous, and he thinks he might want it forever.

That word snaps him out of his reverie, and he opens his eyes to the darkness in a kind of shock, before frowning at himself. _Forever._ For God’s sake, he’s known Magnus less than a month – it’s ridiculous to feel so attached already. Not to mention that Magnus is a _genie, _a fucking _magical entity _who’s lived for centuries, and so to him, _forever _means something entirely different.   
Alec’s never thought of himself as self-deprecating – though he knows Izzy disagrees with him on that – but he’s aware of his limits, and nothing makes him feel quite as limited as comparing himself to the kind of life that Magnus is used to. The kind that such a generous, brilliant man deserves.

So tomorrow, he’s going to make his third wish, and then say goodbye. Now, all he has to do is think of something else he wants, besides what he knows it would be too selfish of him to ask for.

It’s a while before he manages to fall asleep, and if he could muster the will to care about anything his head has to say, drowned out as it is by the petulant demands of his heart, he’d bemoan how tired he’s going to be at work tomorrow.   
He dreams of a magic carpet ride, of warm smiles and golden eyes and arms wrapped snugly around his waist, holding him safe. When he wakes up to a gently scathing alarm a few hours later, he’ll almost manage to convince himself that it doesn’t mean anything, simply because it can’t.

***

Magnus throws his head back against the chaise longue, staring up unseeingly at the highest shelves, barely noticing when the book tumbles from his fingers. He’s finished _Les Mis, _finally, but he’s barely seventy pages into _Doctor Zhivago _and he doesn’t know what he was thinking choosing it as his next literary conquest. Trying to keep track of such an infamously confusing story would be difficult at the best of times – let alone when he’s moping around like a lovesick teenager, lounging in his lamp’s library because it was too frustrating to lie in his opulent four-poster bed and gain no comfort, no rest from the perfectly temperate silk embrace.

He sighs, and if he wasn’t feeling so low he’d laugh at the dramatics of it all. He wants to go back and use only his magic to catch Alexander, to spare himself from the feeling of what he wanted being _right_ _there _and yet so far out of reach. Better yet, he wants to go back thirty years, to when he misplaced the lid of his lamp for the seventeenth time that month, decided enough was enough, and sealed it in place; because if he could just change that decision, he wouldn’t have gotten _stuck, _wouldn’t have ended up offering a handsome, kind mortal three wishes and accidentally throwing in a piece of his heart as part of the deal.

He shuts his eyes, a little overwhelmed by the current toll on his willpower – because as much as he tells himself that he wishes he could change the past and avoid this situation, he knows it isn’t true. What he _actually _wants is to leave the lamp right this second, march over to Alexander’s bedroom, and declare that he’s never met anyone like him. That he’s never felt such _connection_ to someone else, something that feels so immense even in its beginning – because he wants this to be a beginning, he wants to confess his feelings and trade silk sheets for soft-worn cotton, four posts for a pair of strong arms and gentle archer’s hands. He wants to conjure roses and day lilies and give them to Alexander as tokens of his affection, because Magnus has always been a hopeless romantic at his core and because Alexander is so beautiful when he’s flustered.

But although he’s a fool, Magnus is not an idiot, and calm resignation is stronger than his unattainable hopes. If his eight centuries have taught him anything, it’s that no matter how much of the world his powers can grant him, there will always be some things that he just can’t have.

***

Alec has decided on his final wish, and rationally, he knows it’s a good one. If Magnus can help sway his landlord’s opinion into something a little more pet-friendly, Alec can finally get the puppy he’s been dreaming of adopting ever since he was a kid. It’s something for _him, _like Magnus suggested, and it’s something he’d never be able to get without Magnus’ help, so it’s not like he’s wasting this once- (or, more accurately, thrice-) in-a-lifetime opportunity.   
It’s a good wish. It’s also the complete opposite of what he wants, because making it means that Magnus will leave again.

He opens the door, false smile plastered on as he turns to the living room, where he usually finds Magnus at this time of the day.  
It’s empty.

The smile falls, and Alec curses the lump in his throat because this is _ridiculous._ He’s lived alone for a good few years now, and Magnus has only been here a matter of weeks. Coming home to an empty apartment is the _norm, _for God’s sake, and it’s one he’d better get used to again because he’s here to make his wish, and Magnus is going to leave.

_Unless you ask him to stay, _whispers a traitorous voice in his head, and he shuts his eyes because he _can’t, _he can’t make a request so selfish –   
Except… he _can. _Wasn’t this exactly what Magnus suggested for his final wish? To make it something Alec truly wanted for himself, as much as he wanted happiness for Izzy and his mom in the previous two wishes?   
Alec’s heart starts thundering in his chest, because suddenly, he knows – not only _can _he do this, he _has _to. He knows he can’t bear to let this – this _something, _whatever it is, just pass him by. If he doesn’t at least ask, he’ll never forgive himself.

He goes to his bedroom, making a plan in his head as he tries to find something nice to wear, something that says _I made an effort for you because you mean something to me. _Go big or go home, right? Granted, that’s usually Jace’s motto, not Alec’s – but considering that Jace is happily married and Alec’s currently pining after someone he may never see again, maybe he could use a little of that spirit tonight.

He ventures back out into the living room, running over what he’s going to say in his head. He can’t just ask outright, can’t just make this his third wish and be done with it – he has to know that Magnus wants to stay as much as Alec wants him to. So instead, he’s going to give him a choice, and pray that Magnus feels the same way.   
He clears his throat, faces the lamp, and speaks before he has a chance to chicken out.  
‘Magnus, do you have a minute? I’m ready to make my last wish.’

***

Alexander's voice echoes in the high ceilings of his otherwise cozy study, and Magnus looks up from the list he was compiling. He needs options for where to go next, once he leaves New York; so far, he’s settled on Rome, Tokyo, and Lapland. All bright distraction, tourist traps and beautiful culture and ways to lose time. All thoroughly unappealing, now that they're suddenly imminent.   
He stands with a sigh, mustering a smile as he closes his eyes and allows himself to drift out of the lamp's spout.

When he rematerializes, he blinks in surprise. Alexander usually favours sweaters, polo shirts and jeans, both for relaxing at home and for working in his fairly casual office. This sharp, smart combination of a crisp button-down shirt and a blazer is new, and he looks -  
Magnus cuts himself off before he can follow that train of thought into dangerous territory. 'Some sort of special occasion today?' he asks, gesturing at the outfit. 'Did the Mayor stop by the office, perhaps?'  
Alexander's cheeks turn just the tiniest bit pink, and Magnus is really going to miss talking to someone who's so easily _affected_ by simple conversation. 'Not quite,' he says. 'I just... had a meeting I wanted to make an effort for.'

'Ah, of course.' Magnus' good humour dissipates a little, though he tries to hide it, because there's nothing left to do but ask. 'So - your final wish. You've decided?'  
Alexander nods. He looks a little nervous, and Magnus braces himself for what may be a more difficult request than the previous two wishes.

What he isn't expecting is for Alexander to set his shoulders in determination, and say, 'For my third wish, you have a choice.'

Magnus stares at him for a moment. _‘I _have a choice?' A small chuckle escapes him, and he hopes it doesn't sound too bittersweet. 'You continue to surprise me, Alexander. All right, then.' He puts on a mock-serious expression, letting pomp and circumstance infuse his tone. 'Tell me – what devious conundrum lies ahead of me, good sir?'   
Alexander gives a brief (and, if Magnus is honest with himself, not wholly deserved) smile at the moment of levity. 'Okay. For my last wish, I’d like one of the following, and it's completely up to you which one you grant. Option one is a jasmine plant that will never wither.' He hesitates a moment, before continuing resolutely. 'Or, option two… let me buy you dinner. Tonight.'

It's a few seconds before Magnus realises that his mouth is hanging open, and a good few more before he remembers how to use it. 'You mean...'  
_Oh._ He's an even bigger fool than he thought. Because suddenly, it all makes sense – the blushing, and the nice jacket, and the tension yesterday when they were standing so damn _close_ -

Alexander's nervousness is starting to give way to a gentle panic, and Magnus realises that he hasn't actually given an answer yet. He raises a hand to forestall any babbling, because Alexander looks like he's on the verge of one of his (usually unnecessary, but also unfairly adorable) _I'm sorry, it's stupid, forget it_ tirades.  
One particular thought from last night sparks in Magnus’ mind again, and he smiles slyly as his eyes catch on Alexander's top buttonhole. He gently twirls his wrist, and a short, delicate stem sprouts into existence, budding at the top and unfurling slightly into a small red rose. He steps forward, tucking it into the buttonhole, and his smile widens as he meets Alexander's gaze. 'Option two. _Definitely_ option two.'

Alexander's eyes flick down to the rose briefly – or perhaps to where Magnus' hand is lightly but unabashedly lingering on his lapel – and he barks out a short, surprised laugh. 'Seriously?' he says, in response to Magnus' questioning look. 'I ask you for a date or a plant, and you say yes to the date by _conjuring a plant?'_ He laughs again, shaking his head in apparent disbelief. 'I thought you were going to say no!'   
Magnus winces a little in amused embarrassment, but you don't live as long as he has without learning how to recover quickly from social slips. 'I'm sorry,' he says smoothly, one finger trailing over the silky rose petals. 'I'm not normally so distracted. It usually only happens right after I've been asked out by someone _singularly_ attractive.' His eyes dart back up to meet Alexander's, and when he sees the flustered mirth reflected there, every reason he previously thought of to leave New York seems to evaporate into nothingness.

Alexander proffers his arm. 'Well,' he says, his voice low and soft. 'Shall we get going, then?'  
Magnus loops his own arm through Alexander’s, and flashes his most dazzling grin in sheer joy. 'Your wish is my command.'

***

Six months later, Alec finds himself at the _Oddities _display once more, while Pat’s bustling around with the clothing. ‘Hey, Underhill,’ he calls, ‘do we want the imitation Fabergés out yet, or do we wait another week?’  
‘I’d say go for it. The chocolate bunnies have been out in the grocery stores for nearly a month already.’

It’s fairly slow, especially for a Saturday afternoon just before closing time, and the three of them are taking the opportunity to reshuffle the stock. Alec’s been volunteering at the thrift shop since New Year’s – it’s a total change of pace from his nine-to-five, and it’s fast becoming a highlight of each week.

At the brief, informal interview – conducted by the cashier who sold him the lamp, who introduced himself as _Andrew, but everyone just calls me Underhill – _he’d been asked why he wanted to volunteer, and he’d smiled. ‘You remember that old lamp I bought? Well, it wasn’t exactly like _Aladdin, _but it definitely brought me some good fortune. I wanted to pay it back a little, like you said.’

_And speaking of that good fortune – _the bell on the door chimes merrily as Magnus waltzes into the shop, his disguised eyes meeting Alec’s with a surreptitious flash of gold. Alec smiles, walking over to plant a brief kiss on Magnus’ cheek. ‘Hey.’  
‘Hey. I know I’m a little early, but I thought I’d see how you were doing.’ He glances around the shop, raising an eyebrow. ‘Though if I’d known you were so swamped, I might have decided against it.’  
Alec rolls his eyes fondly. ‘We’re nearly done for the day, then I’m all yours.’  
Magnus smirks, and opens his mouth – likely to comment on the _I’m all yours _part of that sentence – but Underhill interrupts. ‘You guys can get out of here, if you want. Pat and I can finish up on our own.’  
‘Are you sure?’  
Underhill gestures to the empty aisles. ‘He has a point. It’s totally dead, and I doubt we’ll be overrun in the last ten minutes of business.’ He nods towards the door, smiling. ‘Go enjoy your anniversary. See you next week.’

Alec barely has time to thank him before he’s being practically pulled out of the door, laughing. ‘Someone’s eager,’ he says, and Magnus turns to shoot him a grin. His silver tortoise pin – a Christmas present from Alec – glints against his burgundy cravat, the bright blue gemstones catching the late golden sunlight. ‘Where are we going?’ Alec asks, pulling his hand from Magnus’ to wrap his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders instead.

Magnus meets his gaze, a hint of mischief in his expression. ‘Well, in honour of our first date, I thought I’d give you a choice.’  
Alec chuckles. ‘Oh? And what would that choice be?’  
‘Well, option one is Tokyo. I thought we could revisit that sushi place…’

Alec listens contentedly as Magnus rambles on, extolling the many virtues (and some of the vices) that Tokyo and Rome each have to offer. There’s an early spring chill in the air, but Magnus is warm against his side as they walk in comfortable rhythm, and the low flurry of his excitement feels like sunlight on Alec’s skin.

He listens, but a part of his mind drifts back to six months ago – and he thanks his lucky stars that he took this chance, that he didn’t just let this go. Because now he gets to be in love with this amazing, kind, golden-eyed magician, and by some miracle, Magnus loves him back.

It’s even better than he could have wished for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story! I had so much fun writing it - it's my first real foray into writing an AU that's more than just a canon divergent what-if, but I highly doubt it'll be the last ^^  
As I said at the beginning, it's also the first time I've posted a fic chapter-by-chapter on AO3, and the wonderful support between chapters has been a joy to experience - so thank you to everyone who's commented along the way!
> 
> As always, please let me know what you thought. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr:  
silver-latin-and-salt.tumblr.com


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